Fiction from the Archive

The New Yorker has played an interesting and, in some ways, an integral role in the history of American fiction. With the publication of the anthology “Short Stories from The New Yorker,” in 1940, the magazine became one of the première venues for serious short fiction in America; ever since then, it’s helped shape our idea of what a short story can be. In the thirties and forties, the magazine favored understated stories in a broadly Chekhovian mode; these quintessential New Yorker stories, Lionel Trilling wrote, were islands of “moral intensity” in an otherwise “genial” magazine. During and after the Second World War, New Yorker fiction became more politically engaged; throughout the fifties, sixties, seventies, and eighties, it became more diverse, both formally and tonally. William Maxwell, the magazine’s fiction editor, worked with writers like Eudora Welty, John Cheever, and Vladimir Nabokov, and oversaw the magazine’s fiction during an extraordinary period of literary invention. (Maxwell’s novel “So Long, See You Tomorrow” was first published in The New Yorker, and went on to win the National Book Award.)

It’s impossible to summarize a collection of fiction that is so vast and so varied, so below you’ll find a small selection of fiction from the archive—including excerpts from a few novels that got their start in the magazine. And, if you’re hungry for more recent stories, take a look at “20 Under 40,” our recent collection of stories by young writers.

J. D. Salinger, “A Perfect Day for Bananafish,” January 31, 1948She looked like her phone had been ringing continually ever since she had reached puberty.

Shirley Jackson, “The Lottery,” June 26, 1948They stood together, away from the pile of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they smiled rather than laughed.

John Updike, “Friends From Philadelphia,” October 30, 1954“I never went to college,” he said as they started down the steps, “yet I buy a new car whenever I want.” His tone wasn’t nasty, but soft and full of wonder.

Vladimir Nabokov, “Pnin’s Day,” April 23, 1955If Pnin’s Russian was music, his English was murder.

Philip Roth, “Defender of the Faith,” March 14, 1959His green-speckled eyes, long and narrow, flashed like fish in the sun.

John O’Hara, “Imagine Kissing Pete,” September 17, 1960“I bet she’ll be the first to get a divorce. Imagine kissing Pete, let alone any of the rest of it.”

Muriel Spark, “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie,” October 14, 1961The girls who loitered beneath a tree, shoulder to shoulder because of the boys, were all famous for something.

Donald Barthelme, “Snow White,” February 18, 1967She is a tall dark beauty containing a great many beauty spots….

Saul Bellow, “A Silver Dish,” September 25, 1978There was no harm in Woody but he didn’t like being entirely within the law. It was simply a question of self-respect.

William Maxwell, “So Long, See You Tomorrow,” October 1, 1979The murderer cut off the dead man’s ear and carried it away with him.